


im coming (wait for me)

by hrrystylesbian



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, listen I promise this is gonna end well you just have to hurt a little first okay, morden greek mythology au, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrrystylesbian/pseuds/hrrystylesbian
Summary: “It’s meant to rain,” Harry said, his eyes flickering over their hands.“It’s meant to rain after we’re here inside for the reception. It’s going to be fine. If it rains during the ceremony it’ll still be fine. Rain helps the flowers grow.”“Is our relationship a flower?” Harry asked him dubiously, though Louis could hear the panic start to subside from his voice.“I’d say so. Took a lot of love and care and time to make it blossom. And it needs love to keep it going,” Louis offered.“And rain?”“And rain.” Louis closed his eyes and brought Harry’s hand up to kiss. “It’ll be okay. If it rains we’ll come back here and get married. We’ll get married in our car. We’ll get married and say I do as we run to the car park. No matter what, at the end of the day, we’re going to be married.”“You promise?”“Promise.”or a modern greek myth where Louis loses Harry and his journey to get him back.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 5
Collections: 1D Fic Fest 2019





	im coming (wait for me)

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is not completed yet, but she's well on her way. I want to say a big thank you the the mods for being so accommodating to me!! And a big thank you to my beta (@userkant) on tumblr) because she is endlessly patient with me and so kind and encouraging. We really be blessed this holiday season. 
> 
> I hope you like it, this fic should be done by the first week of January so you wont have to wait long for the ending! Love to you all. 
> 
> tpwk 
> 
> disclaimer: this isnt real, it has never been real and it will never be real.

“You look like a tree,” Louis had said with a laugh as he found Harry outside their house, legs covered in dirt, practically buried into the ground and beginning to take root. Harry was gardening, planting seeds from last years’ garden harvest and adding more with seeds he bought—though he liked to wean himself off of that. He wanted to live off the land. 

It was silly, but that was Harry. 

Harry jutted his lower lip out as he looked back at Louis, doing his best impression of a puppy dog pout. “Heyyyy,” he drawled slowly and furrowed his brow. “You making a joke about my height? Trees get much taller than me.” 

Louis rolled his eyes fondly and leaned down, brushed the dirt from his legs, and smiled. “No, I'm saying you’ve practically buried yourself in the ground. The dirt belongs to the earth, not to you.” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile at that, wiping the back of his dirt-covered glove back against his rosy cheeks. “Silly Louis. We all belong to the earth.” He had said it matter-of-factly, like it was something everyone should know. The sky is blue. The ocean is big. We all belong to the earth. 

It was some hippie shit, if Louis did say so himself. 

But it wasn’t annoying or weird, and it didn’t throw him off like it would’ve maybe a few years ago. It was just Harry. Simple as that. 

Louis smiled gently and reached forward, gently swiping his thumb along Harry’s cherub-like cheeks, getting the dirt to fall back home. “We do, huh? Shall I bury you again, then? Maybe bring the hose out and water you until you bloom?”

“If you do it consistently. Shower me with love and I’ll grow twice as fast.” 

“You should be taller then.” 

“I’ve grown since we met, haven’t I?” 

Louis simply smiled. 

Louis shook his head to himself, his lips curled into a smile as he looked around the venue. The seats were set up, benches from dark wood that looked as if they had fallen right there. They’d be comfortable enough to sit on but still natural, the way Harry had wanted. It was empty now; nobody was there except him and his best man. It would’ve been eerie if it weren’t for the sound of Niall’s loud voice from the car park a bit further back, out of sight from the clearance in the woods they had found. 

Louis walked down the aisle, fingers brushing over the smooth wooden benches, and stood at the altar. He couldn’t even properly imagine that today was the day he was going to be married. In a few short hours he would be standing here saying ‘I do’. He took a couple steps and turned to look out, trying to imagine the family they’d invited, their friends looking back at him. He blinked a few times before he closed his eyes and saw Harry standing so far, yet so close, in whatever beautiful outfit he decided to wear. He imagined it wasn’t just a plain suit, maybe something floral and soft, still white to uphold tradition. Something more feminine, like what Harry loved so much, perhaps even sheer. 

He thought of seeing him for the first time since yesterday. It’s tradition to not see each other until the wedding, Harry had told him. You have to spend the night at Niall’s. And he had. 

He opened his eyes again and breathed slowly, seeing his mind’s version of Harry standing just past the last row of benches, curls looking as beautiful as ever, just going past his shoulders, and his green eyes shining in the greenery surrounding them. 

“Oi! Tommo, c’mon! I have to get you to the pre-wedding shoot or Haz is going to kill me!” Niall yelled from the car. “And don’t be fussed when I put the blindfold on ya!” 

Louis rolled his eyes fondly, letting Niall’s voice bring him back to earth before he walked back to the boys. He chuckled as Niall came into view, leaning against one of the posts with a red handkerchief in hand. He held it mockingly and began to move his hips in a gyrating motion, singing Marvin Gaye as he did. 

“This isn’t some kink thing, is it?” he asked Niall teasingly and plucked the handkerchief from his hand. “Not gonna handcuff me to one of the posts and have your way with me?” 

Niall only cackled at that and snatched it right back. “No, it’s not. Harry requested you wear it.” 

“Ah, so its a kink thing for him?” he asked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Niall laughed and moved to push Louis to the car. 

“It’s not a kink thing at all, you bloody idiot. You have a photoshoot with Harry before the wedding and you can’t see each other,” Niall told him, opening his car door and letting Louis in. He tugged him back and wrapped the handkerchief around his eyes, tying it snugly at the back before he waving his hand in front of his face. “You see anything? How many fingers am I holdin’ up?”

Louis huffed and let him tie it before he laughed. “None, I can’t see shit right now. Can’t you tie this when we actually get there?” 

“No can do, mate.” Niall closed his door before getting in on the other side and starting the engine. “Under strict orders from Haz. Liam blindfolded him too. He doesn’t want to risk any mishaps. He’s a bit superstitious, you know.” 

Louis laid his head back and tapped his fingers against his knee. “I know, I know. S’why he kicked me out last night,” he said with a fond chuckle, letting himself relax while Niall drove them to their pre-wedding photoshoot. He knew everyone would start arriving soon and then Louis could take his place and soon after Harry would be there ready to walk down the aisle and into Louis’ arms. 

He was so excited. 

They got to the reception venue for the photoshoot. It was taking place in a rather large barn, though more classy than whatever big red wooden one his little siblings watched on that kid’s show. It was dark, from what he remembered, vines climbing the sides of it and covering it to make it look like it had grown from the ground that way. 

The car door opened and he reached out for Niall, letting his friend guide him into the barn. He could hear Liam typing on his phone as he tapped his foot. He could almost imagine the way Liam was just itching to get the show on the road. It was the same way he got when he had to usher Louis from meetings or meet and greets to get him to places on time. The thought made him smile. 

“Alright, I’ve delivered him,” Niall proclaimed, a smile stretching across his cheeks as he looked at Liam, who was fiddling with his phone. Louis could hear the photographer taking a couple of test shots and the familiar sound relaxed him. 

“Great. Harry is waiting in his dressing room, I have to go help him get ready. His sister is in there and his mum too, with a couple of the other grooms-people,” Liam told Niall, checking over at Louis. “You’ll need to be out here in twenty minutes to take the pictures.” It was meant for Louis but he knew it was a reminder to both of them. Niall just smiled and began to lead Louis to his room to be dressed. 

“Alright, alright, Payno, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and Louis could hear the hustle and bustle of his other groomsmen, Stan, and some of his sisters, though really just Lottie and Fizzy since they were the eldest. His mum was in the room too, talking to some of his friends, the twins on her lap babbling about. He pulled the blindfold off and smiled at the sight; it was almost everyone he loved. He knew the family pictures would come after the wedding, but it was nice to have his mum here to help him get ready. The nervous energy was thrumming inside of him, making it hard to sit still. 

“Oh, Louis, you’re here!” his mother said and lifted Ernest off of her lap to hand him over to Niall and the rest of the children. 

Joannah walked over to him and cupped his cheeks in her hands, kissing them both with a fond smile before stepping back. “Cmon, you’ve got a few things to do before the pictures. The photographer you like so much is coming in a few to take some of you getting ready. The shots they have already are so precious—she captured Doris chasing a butterfly outside, and it was just darling.” 

Louis smiled fondly and glanced over at the youngest set of twins, who were entranced by Niall and his hair. 

“Anna? Well, she is the best of the best. Used her for the album cover and tour for a reason,” he told his mother and moved to the clothing rack, grabbing his suit for the occasion. Simple and black, and as classic as could be. He didn’t want to be flashy and different; traditional was a lot more his style. “And the flowers for me—” 

“We have them resting in the fridge so they’ll be perfect for the shoot. Just get dressed and your sister can start work with your hair,” she said and gently pushed him towards the bathroom. 

It only took him a few minutes to get everything on, fiddling with his tie as he exited the bathroom. Every moment in the building he could feel the tension rising with the excitement of everyone there. It was like a rubber band being pulled taut, and he wondered when it was going to snap. 

His eyes flickered over to the photographer, Anna, as she walked in and got photos of some of the boys getting their hair done, of the twins running around and some of Louis as he walked out of the bathroom. She smiled at him as she lowered her camera. 

“Pretend I’m not here,” she said, and pulled her camera back up to her face. Easy enough. He could do that. 

He looked back at his mother chuckled a bit before taking the tie from his shaking hands and pulling it undone. “You know how excited I am to see you getting married today,” she said softly, knotting the tie with ease. “You know… well, you know the first time around wasn’t exactly good for me. Best thing to come out of it was you.” She smiled gently as she finished and smoothed his shirt down. 

“But you’re getting it right on the first try. You found the love of your life, boobear,” she whispered. Louis had to roll his eyes, though the smile still on his reddened cheeks. 

“Mum.”

Joannah laughed and pulled him in for a hug. Louis went easily into his mother’s arms and laid his head on her shoulder, feeling the safety of his mother’s embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. If there was ever a day I get to be sappy, I would say it’s today, don’t you think?” she asked and pulled back before gently pushing him over to the chair by the mirror. “Go on, let your sister make you pretty.” 

“I’m already pretty,” he told her indignantly as he went and sat in the makeup and hair chair, letting his sister fuss over him for the time being.

He was ushered out of the room soon by Anna and he walked down the hall. He saw the beautiful vines and fairy lights that illuminated the space and he knew Harry was just around the corner. He could hear his warm voice floating through the corridor and his stomach felt warm just hearing him. He could almost imagine how Harry looked; curls falling back over his shoulders, dimple so deep Louis could climb in and live there. 

Niall chased after him to wrap the blindfold around his eyes. He secured it tightly and led him the rest of the way down the hall.

“I hope you’re wearing protection,” he whispered to Harry who squawked, which only caused him to laugh to himself. 

“That’s the worst way to ask if I'm wearing the blindfold, and you know I am,” Harry giggled as he retracted his hands. Louis leaned back against the wall as he listened to him speak. He felt like his entire body was vibrating at this point, and he was ready to rip off the blindfold and kiss Harry.

“Alright boys, c'mon. Gotta get moving, you have a wedding to get to,” Anna said and moved to push them so their backs were flat with the wall but Harry stopped her. 

“Wait!” 

He patted his pockets and found what he was looking for before he reached out, finding Louis’ wrists. Even blindfolded he could find Louis like it was the easiest thing in the world, an extension of himself. 

“I got you cufflinks. They’re mine so you have something borrowed, something blue,” he said softly, the smile in his voice evident. 

Louis was speechless for a moment, laughing weakly and shaking his head to himself. He traced his fingers along Harry’s wrist. He placed his fingers over the cufflinks and felt the smooth surface, the rounded top before he reached for Harry’s hand. The sound of the camera was clicking in his ears, but it was all background noise to him, his attention solely on Harry in that moment. 

“Thought these were just for the bride?” 

Harry laughed softly, his breath on Louis’ cheek. “And am I your bride then?” 

Louis held his breath, knowing if he turned his lips would meet Harry’s, and as much as he wanted to kiss him then he knew he had to wait. “I’d say so,” he replied just as quietly, the words for Harry alone. 

Harry stood up to full height and leaned back against his own wall around the corner, his hand still holding Louis’ tightly. Louis stood back up too, pressed against his wall before Niall carefully took off his blindfold, a finger on his chin to keep him from turning his head. 

“Alright boys,” Anna called as she rounded the corner from Harry’s side. “You’re both far enough in that you shouldn’t see each other, but if I catch anyone trying to peek, Liam has been instructed to tackle,” she informed, nodding to Liam standing by her side looking every bit the buff bodyguard he was. Louis chuckled fondly and raised his hands up, holding Harry’s to show there would be no funny business. This, at least, was serious. 

He tilted his head down, looking at Harry’s hand, the only thing he was allowed to see. Their hands were tied together, almost like their tattoos suggested, anchoring them together. Home. 

“I’m so excited to see you,” Harry whispered quietly, barely even speaking. “I’ve been so nervous all day.” 

Louis smiled fondly and squeezed his hand. “What’s there to be afraid of? It’s all gonna go to plan. We both have our checklists, I’ve checked out the venue and it’s perfect. I know you picked your bouquet this morning and all the flowers are fresh. You’ll check the cake before you leave. And,” he said softly, “I know you look beautiful.” 

“It’s meant to rain,” Harry said, his eyes flickering over their hands. 

“It’s meant to rain after we’re here inside for the reception. It’s going to be fine. If it rains during the ceremony it’ll still be fine. Rain helps the flowers grow.” 

“Is our relationship a flower?” Harry asked him dubiously, though Louis could hear the panic start to subside from his voice. 

“I’d say so. Took a lot of love and care and time to make it blossom. And it needs love to keep it going,” Louis offered. 

“And rain?” 

“And rain.” Louis closed his eyes and brought Harry’s hand up to kiss. “It’ll be okay. If it rains we’ll come back here and get married. We’ll get married in our car. We’ll get married and say I do as we run to the car park. No matter what, at the end of the day, we’re going to be married.” 

“You promise?” 

“Promise.” 

Anna’s voice broke his concentration on Harry. “Alright boys, that's all we need from the both of you. Harry, you’ve got a bit more getting ready to do so I’ll follow you back to your dressing room,” she said, holding her large camera in her hands. Louis and Harry both had their blindfolds back on in a second and were whisked away to their respective rooms. Louis checked himself in the mirror and let Lottie touch up whatever makeup she wanted to put on him before he was off to the venue. 

+++ 

The guests were finally starting to arrive, a small orchestra playing soft music as they entered. Harry and Louis had decided on a small wedding, just friends and family—it was perfectly intimate.

“Storm’s rolling in,” Niall told him, bumping his hip gently as he pulled Louis back from his conversation and gave him a smile. Louis was grateful Niall was his best man in this moment. 

“I know, but—shouldn’t be a long ceremony. And he should be here soon,” he said and pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time. Only 3 p.m. The wedding wasn’t even meant to start until 3:30, and the rain was only meant to start at 6. They had time. They’d be done before the storm fully arrived. 

Niall sighed and stood back, still by his side, and greeted people along with Louis, thanking them for coming. The time to be married was ticking closer with every passing second and Louis could feel his blood pumping faster through his veins. He felt like he was at his first ever gig again, ready to play in front of 20 people, most of whom he knew—nervous and excited and ready to sing. He felt the same when he had played to a stadium of a thousand people, most of whom he didn’t know. 

He checked his watch again. All he could do now was wait. 

+++ 

“Our cake is missing,” Harry told Liam and frowned as he surveyed the kitchen. There was a small girl standing there with a clipboard in her hands, and was shaking as she looked between the words on her sheet, the cake she had brought, and Harry, who wasn’t angry, but was definitely frantic. 

“What do you mean the cake is missing? Harry, it’s right there! We’ve got to go!” Liam told him and tugged at Harry’s wrist. Harry tugged it right back and moved to look at the cake again. 

“She said this is the cake she was told to deliver here, but it's not ours. It’s not the one we ordered. I—I know it's a small thing, but I said I would handle cake and I don’t even have the right one.” He looked at Liam. “We have to stop by the bakery.” 

Liam’s eyes widened and he looked at his watch, eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “Harry, we do not have time to go look for the cake!” 

“We’re stopping by the bakery. We have time.” He said as he grabbed his suit jacket and pulled it on, straightening itn over himself before grabbing the car keys. 

“It’s 3:15! Harry, we have to go!” 

“We are going! We’re just stopping at the bakery on the way. It’ll take five minutes to get this sorted,” he said, smiling at the girl. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. This definitely isn’t our cake though.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. “I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble, just get it to the real owner, yeah?” he told her kindly. She looked relieved at not being yelled at and quickly rushed the cake back to the car. 

“Harry!” Liam yelled from the doorway. 

“Coming!” 

+++ 

“He’s still not here,” Louis reminded Niall for the umpteenth time, as if Niall needed that reminder. Louis had checked his watch obsessively at the altar every five minutes, then every two minutes, then one minute, then thirty seconds. 

Niall sighed and gripped the back of Louis’ neck. “I told you, Liam texted me and said they were on their way. They had to make a pit stop.” 

“What type of bloody pit stop could possibly be more important than the actual wedding?” he gritted out, still smiling the best he could at the guests. It was only twenty minutes or so after the wedding was meant to start, but Harry wasn’t exactly the type to be late. 

“I don’t know, Louis, but I’m sure it's fine.” 

Louis took a deep breath and let it out, the way Harry taught him to do when he was stressed. He used to call him a yoga freak until he realized how much it really did help. Usually. Somehow, it wasn’t working right now. 

He waited a few more minutes in silence before he looked over at Niall and swallowed dryly. 

“You think he left me at the altar?” 

Niall rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, Louis, listen to yourself. Harry did not leave you at the altar, get a grip,” he said before seeing the actual panic in Louis’ face. He glanced at the guests and cleared his throat before stepping down to Joannah and whispering into her ear. She gave a simple nod before she moved to the center of the aisle and kissed Louis’ cheek

“Alright listen, you know how Harry gets. He’s probably a little nervous. Maybe he got the marriage jitters and had to make a—you know, a pit stop,” she said, trying not to sound crude. “Like how he got the first time you performed in front of a proper crowd, he ended up in the bathroom for an hour.” 

“This is not the same—” 

“But I'm sure he’s nervous. In a good way, but still, getting married is a big thing. Or maybe he’s taking a moment to take it all in, you know how he does. Maybe he’s journaling.” 

“This is not the bloody time to journal,” he snapped as a soft thunder rolled over their heads. It wasn’t raining yet, but it looked about to start. 

“Liam said they were on their way,” Niall reminded him, calming Louis with a hand on his shoulders. 

“Call him and see where they are.” 

“I’m not calling—just wait another ten minutes, yeah? It’s nearly 4 now, and I’m sure whatever stop they made was important.” 

Louis groaned and reached to pull out his phone, but Niall snatched it from him and shook his head. “No! You’re not calling and acting nervous. Harry loves you. He wouldn’t leave you at the altar.”

“Send a text then. If I can’t call, I’ll send a text.” 

Niall watched him for a moment and assessed the situation, realizing that this was his only bargaining chip to get Louis to relax. 

“Fine. One text,” he amended and handed the phone over. Louis immediately typed out a message. 

‘Leaving me at the altar, Curly? Can’t wait to see you. Be safe. Love you.’ He looked at the screen before sighing and deleting the message. 

‘Waiting for you. You know where to find me. Love you,’ he sent off before he handed Niall his phone back. 

“You good now?” 

“Good,” he confirmed, feeling a slight drop of wetness fall on his cheek, a tear from the sky above. He looked up to the darkening clouds and felt a pit form in his stomach, but he pushed it aside. Niall was right. He was just nervous. He walked back to the altar and smiled at his mother, kissing her cheek gently before returning to his place. Niall took his spot beside Louis and they looked down the aisle. 

They waited in the forest for a while more, the birds flying overhead like they knew the storm was coming. Louis was almost tempted to pull his watch off and throw it into the creek behind them, but he knew that wouldn’t do any good. He tapped his foot against the ground as he looked around, trying not to seem nervous in front of his guests. Anne was waiting by the start of the aisle, Gemma standing behind her and both seeming off. Louis didn’t think twice before apologizing to everyone and walking right past them. He grabbed Anne’s elbow and dragged her back towards the cars. 

“Louis—” 

“Where is he? We need to call him, you—we need to call them,” he panted out, his voice shaking as he pulled his phone out. His mother hurried up behind them with Gemma and Niall, and Joannah ushered them closer to the cars so the guests wouldn’t overhear. 

“I told them there's been a slight delay, but he’s on his way,” Joannah said, trying her best to calm him down. Anne was looking frantically at her, hoping that something would happen, that Harry would pull in. Louis wasn’t focused on any of them. He dialled Harry’s number and put the phone to his ear, looking around as another louder round of thunder began. It echoed his heart, in that moment, overwhelming and loud. He shushed everyone around him as he heard the ringing for one moment, two moments, then voicemail. He stared in disbelief and dialled again. Same thing.

One ring. 

Two rings. 

Voicemail. 

“For fucks sake,” he growled and shoved his phone in his pocket. He grabbed at Niall’s phone and patted his pockets. “Where are my keys. You—let's go back to the reception hall—I bet he’s still there, freaking out,” he said, voice shaking, and dialled Harry’s number on Niall’s phone. Voicemail again. 

Niall clearly realized that arguing wasn’t the best course of action at this moment. He wordlessly pulled the keys out and got into the car, turned it on, and pulled on his seat belt. 

“Mum, I'll call you when we’re on our way back, okay?” he called to her before slamming the door and dialling Liam’s number. Straight to voicemail. Louis groaned in annoyance as Niall peeled out of the car park and raced back to the reception hall. 

The rain was starting, and Louis knew his mum and Anne were probably getting people to go to their cars to wait while they went to fetch Harry. Louis truly couldn’t be fussed about the rain right now as he continued to alternate between dialling Liam and Harry. 

“Harry,” he spoke into the phone as the beep rang out, “remind me to tell you on our anniversary how bloody stupid it was to be nervous about the wedding. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, I know you wanted it to be perfect but it’ll be perfect because it’s you and me, okay?” He asked fervently. “Okay. I’m sorry that i’m panicking. Remind me to shove the cake in your face extra hard tonight. I love you.” 

He hung up the phone and closed his eyes, taking another deep, cleansing breath. He was interrupted from his attempts at calm by the blaring ambulance sirens racing past them, his eyes snapping open. 

“Told you a storm was coming.” 

“It came early,” Louis exhaled and rubbed his temples tiredly. They passed the ambulance again on the way to the reception, but Louis only saw a glimpse of it all. The traffic was pretty bad going in the other direction, the way to the wedding, and Louis sighed. “I bet they're stuck in all that.” Niall made a noise of agreement but he kept driving. 

Thunder cracked furiously above them and rain pelted down as they arrived to the reception. Louis ran through the rain and made his way through the dressing rooms in the back, checking Harry’s, his own and the bathrooms. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as all he found were room after empty room. He was running out of places to check. He dialled Harry’s number again as he made for the kitchen, but Niall bumped into him, looking more frantic than he had before. 

“Niall, please move, I’m still looking for Harry—” 

“Harry’s mum just called,” he said, almost robotically. 

Louis furrowed his brow and stopped trying to move around Niall, his hand with the phone still paused in midair. 

“Oh. Well, did she say he’s there? Because he isn't anywhere in here,” 

“Harry’s been in an accident. He’s been taken to the hospital.” 

Thunder blares, but Louis doesn’t hear it.

Everything after that goes dark. 

+++

Louis isn’t sure why he was so nervous. He’s performed in front of crowds before. He’s done the open mics around town, and he’s done karaoke in bars. All of that was less nerve-wracking than this. 

He heaved into the toilet bowl, retching a few times, but nothing came up. He had already emptied his stomach earlier. He pushed the thought of germs aside as he rested his head on the cool porcelain. 

There were three little knocks on the door before the door creaked open. 

“Lou?” Harry’s voice was soft. “Can I come in?” 

Louis didn’t exactly want Harry to see him like this, pathetic on the ground in front of a toilet in a public restroom that had seen better days. But this was Harry they were talking about. They had seen each other at their best and their worst. There was nothing to be afraid of. 

Louis sat back on his heels and unlocked the stall door before he looked up at Harry, his eyes dull and red rimmed from the crying fit he had just endured. Harry cooed over him and sank to his knees, gently placing the cold cloth he had brought to Louis’ forehead. He didn’t seem fussed about sitting on a gross public toilet bathroom floor. 

“You’ve been in here the past half hour, and I wanted to check you’re okay. Your set starts in a bit.” 

Louis closed his eyes and sighed, taking the water Harry offered to him and drinking it slowly.   
“I can’t do it. There’s way more people out there than I’ve ever performed for.” 

Harry smiled softly and brushed back Louis’ fringe, just soothing through his hair for a few moments as his eyes searched over Louis’ face. “You can do it. Every time you perform, it’s more people than the last. You used to perform just for your mum. Then, you graduated to your mum and siblings. Open mic night at the bookstore. Now your very own show.” He cupped Louis’ cheek, stroking along his skin gently. “This is just another little step up. You’re the main event! Got an opener before you and everything.” 

“What if I fuck it up?” Louis asked, his voice quiet. He sounded pathetic even to himself, but Harry looked at him with nothing but absolute love in his eyes. 

“So what? Singers forget the words, mess up the chords, get a bit of stage fright. If that happens, just keep playing. They’re your own songs anyway, nobody but you will know if you fucked up,” he assured Louis. “And worst case, I’ll get on stage and we can sing something together. And I'll sing really out of tune so everyone can see how talented you are.”

Louis couldn’t help but laugh at Harry’s words, snorting to himself as he sat up properly. 

Harry giggled with him, holding Louis’ hand in his own and soothing his thumb along the back. “I’m never gonna let you make a fool of yourself. If I thought you needed to wait before performing in front of a crowd, or it was too big or too much pressure, I’d tell you. But this,” Harry smiled, the dimple deepening in his cheek. “This isn’t too much for you. It’s just another step in the road to more people knowing your name. You have so much ahead of you.”

Louis felt his heart aching, thinking of the years of work and time he had put into writing music and performing. He wanted to succeed more than anything. “You really believe that?” He asked dubiously. “I’m not just destined for years of coffee shop and bar gigs?” 

Harry scoffed and shook his head. “No. I think this is just the beginning of your journey, Lou.” 

Louis pulled the cold cloth from his forehead and rested his head back against the stall, watching Harry, the corners of his lips tugged into a smile. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

Harry looked back at him, his green eyes shining as he stood up and held a hand out for Louis to take, helping him stand. They stood together, looking into each other’s eyes for a few moments before a loud knock on the door broke them from their revere. 

“You’re on in five!” 

+++

“We’ve just gotten word that musician Louis Tomlinson’s soon-to-be husband is currently in the hospital following a tragic car accident on the day of their wedding. Our insider is reporting that the star’s fiance, Harry Styles, is currently in critical condition—” Louis cut the radio off before it could continue and heaved a heavy sigh. It had been hours since the crash and he didn’t remember much. He remembered hurrying to the hospital with Niall, the doctors telling him that Harry was in surgery, and that he had major head trauma and chest injuries. He had been resuscitated once in the ambulance and rushed into surgery directly from then. Everything after that was a waiting game. 

Harry had been admitted to the ICU a few hours ago in a medically-induced coma and that’s where Louis was, right beside him. He had pulled a chair up beside Harry’s bed, careful of all the wires and needles attached to him. Harry almost didn’t look human anymore; he looked like a robot, more wires than flesh and more machines than organs. 

Louis swallowed thickly as his eyes traced over Harry’s features, still soft despite the gauze covering his matted curls and sharp cuts. He sank down into the chair, holding his breath as he gently slid his hand into Harry’s. It was warm and, out of everything, Louis was thankful for that. Harry might not look himself, but he felt just like the Harry he knew and loved. 

Louis rested his head onto the small free space of Harry’s bed, eyes never leaving his face. It had been hours since the surgery, since he had been admitted. Anne and Gemma had stayed until they could barely keep their eyes open. Louis had told them to go and get some rest, promising to call them if there were any changes, but he couldn’t pull himself away. 

There was a soft knock on the door before a nurse came in, an older lady with dark skin and slightly-graying hair. She had kind eyes and wise wrinkles like she knew secrets to the universe. She rounded the bed and checked over the beeping machines, scribbling away the numbers. 

“Have you spoken to him yet?” she asked Louis, her eyes still on the clipboard and machines. It was as if she could sense that Louis didn’t want to be seen. He was sure he looked worse for wear; his tux from the wedding was still on with the tie haphazardly undone and hanging loosely around his neck and his hair was messy, sticking up in different directions. 

“I—no,” he admitted, his voice raspy and weak. 

The nurse smiled gently as she turned to face Louis, raising a careful brow. “They can hear you. Even in comas. We’ve seen brain activity in coma patients when people talk to them.” 

“I’d always thought those were just rumors.” 

“I’ve seen the studies. But of course, even if they couldn’t hear, if they don’t understand or comprehend I think it’s still nice. Nice to talk to them. Tell them everything you’d like to say in a moment where all they can do is listen.” 

Louis nodded slowly, eyes moving back to Harry’s features. “I’m scared if I say it now he won’t wake up.” 

The nurse smiled and put Harry’s chart back on the edge of his bed. “Is there ever a downside to saying something twice? You don’t say you love someone once and never again because you believe it’ll mean less each time you say it.” 

Louis laughed weakly, it sounded empty even to him. “You’re right, yeah. Suppose I should just,” he took a deep breath, letting his words hang in the air.

“I’ll leave you to it.” 

Louis waited until the door clicked shut to sit up, squeezing Harry’s hand gently. He tried to force a smile, hoping it reached his tired eyes even though nobody could see him. Knowing that Harry couldn't see him. 

“I—” he hesitated at the start, the beeping machines keeping time, ringing in his ears like a metronome. Beep. Beep. Beep. 

He cleared his throat and shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I’m glad you’re here. I was worried you’d left me at the altar,” he teased. It sounded fake even to him. He used to pride himself on being able to joke and laugh in just about any situation, but right now he couldn’t make it sound sincere. He moved the chair closer to Harry’s bed and took a deep breath. 

“I don’t know what to say right now besides that I love you. I’ve never been so scared in my life when Niall told me, but if—when you wake up, I won’t be mad about any of it. I just want to hear your voice again, Harry. Want to see your green eyes, want to see you smile at me, see your little dimple,” he whispered.

The room was silent besides the steady beeping. Louis wished this would be like a movie, that he could give a mighty love declaration and Harry would take a deep breath and open his eyes. 

Louis’ own eyes felt incredibly heavy. He didn’t know what time it was but he did know he felt exhausted. 

Louis lowered his head to the bed again, his throat tightening as he rested against the scratchy blanket and pressed his lips to Harry’s knuckles. “Come back to me, love. I’m right here. I'm waiting right here for you.” Louis waited a beat before he sat up a bit and kissed Harry. It was soft, their lips barely touching. “I love you,” Louis whispered, stroking along Harry’s cheek gently before sitting back into his chair. He laid his head down on the scratchy bed, his hand still in Harry’s as he cried himself to sleep. 

+++

He was woken with a gentle hand on his back and when he lifted his head he saw Anne standing above him. She was haloed by the light that streamed in from the windows, and for a moment, Louis wondered if he was the one who had been in a car accident. If he was the one who had gone to heaven. 

He turned his head to see Harry still lying in the hospital bed, machines beeping around him. Louis let out a weak sigh. The wish that Harry would be awake by morning seemed to be slipping away each moment. 

“The doctor said he had a good night. Good as he could’ve had.” Anne’s voice was soft, like it would break Louis if she spoke too loud. 

Louis thought it just might. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and stretched his neck. He tilted his head from side to side, trying to work out the kink from sleeping half sitting in a chair all night. “That’s good. I didn’t feel him move at all. They took him for a test at some point but they didn’t tell me what for, but every time the nurse came in to check his vitals or whatever they said he was looking good.” 

Anne offered a smile and tilted his chin up, wiping a bit of dried drool from his cheek. “Why don’t you go home and shower? Get out of your wedding tux. That can’t be comfortable to sleep in.” 

“I don’t want to leave him,” he said automatically, tightening his hand in Harry’s as if that would keep them together. 

Anne looked him over carefully, eyes searching his in hopes to bargain before she landed on acceptance. “Just to shower and change. Get some food. Have you eaten since yesterday?” 

Louis shook his head, his stomach grumbling almost on cue. 

“Your body would like to be fed, even if you don’t want to be.” 

Louis let out a sharp laugh. It felt hollow in his chest. “You sound like Harry.” 

“I did raise him,” she teased, her voice gentle. 

Louis didn’t laugh. He couldn’t smile. He felt like he would be betraying Harry. His husband—fiance—was beside him, barely alive after a devastating car accident and here he was, nearly smiling. It didn’t feel right to smile at a time like this. 

Just as he was about to get up, there was a knock at the door and a woman with blonde hair peeked inside. “Oh good. You’re both here.” She walked inside, clipboard in hand, and looked over Harry’s chart once more before setting it aside. 

“I’m Dr. Glazer, nice to meet you both. I’m the attending neurosurgeon. I think I had one of my interns talk with you both last night after his surgery. He had some general internal damage and bleeding that we got fixed up. I’ve been briefed by the nurses that were on call last night and I think I’ve got some good news.” 

Louis perked up at the thought and sat up a little straighter. “Good news?” 

Dr. Glazer smiled warmly, looking between them. “Yes. After surgery he was sedated and put into a medically-induced coma. I’m not sure if that was explained to you, but Harry sustained some brain damage, some swelling. We wanted to curb that by inducing the coma, allowing his brain to heal. We wanted to run an MRI and a CT, but assuming those are good we can bring him out of the coma.” 

Louis broke into a smile as he looked down at Harry. “That's great news, innit?” 

Dr. Glazer nodded fondly. “I believe so. We have to be cautious with the aftereffects of a medically-induced coma, but patients typically come out of them after a few days. He might sustain some memory loss, and we won’t know the full extent of brain damage until he’s awake, but. There’s a lot to remain hopeful for.” 

Anne’s hand found his and squeezed gently. Louis looked back at her with a smile and squeezed back. It was hard to believe they were getting such good news. 

“Now will you please go home and shower and change? Get some food in you,” Anne prompted and nudged his hip with her own. “I’ll watch over him. Gemma is on her way. We’ll send updates if anything happens.”

Louis still didn’t want to leave Harry, but he figured it would be better to see him freshly clean and well-fed. He stood slowly and kissed Anne’s cheek, whispering a soft thank you that only she could hear as he grabbed his phone and keys. 

+++

Louis arrived back at the hospital freshly showered and cleaned. He had a bouquet of flowers in hand that he had pulled over to the side of the road to ge—exactly the thing Harry would’ve loved to wake up to. 

There was quite the crowd when he arrived to the hospital room; Anne and Gemma were on either side of Harry to hold his hands while talking to each other. Jay was on the couch with Niall and Liam, who had certainly seen better days but fared better than Harry. Liam shot up when he saw Louis and hobbled over to him, his foot in a boot and arm in a cast with a few scratches to tie it all together. 

“Lou, I’m so sorry—I didn’t get to talk to you last night, but I—I’m so sorry, I should’ve made Harry go straight to the wedding. I should’ve told him we weren’t making any stops—” 

Louis engulfed Liam in a hug. “Hey, hey, none of that. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you last night. I know you were on some heavy pain meds.” 

Liam chuckled and rubbed up and down along his back. “Yeah—they had to reset my shoulder and a bone in my arm. Bloody hurts, I tell ya. Don’t recommend.” Liam’s voice was edging on lighthearted, but Louis could sense the nervousness he was hiding. 

“I bet. I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? Though I suppose I might need a new bodyguard.”

Liam rolled his eyes fondly as he limped back to the couch. “As if you could ever replace me, Tommo.” 

Louis had to shake his head, grinning at the airiness of the room. It was bright and Harry was in a coma, but they had hope. It didn’t feel like the end of the world the way it had the night before. He pulled up a chair beside Gemma and reached for Harry’s hand. He gave it a squeeze and kissed the back of his hand. 

“Any updates?” Louis asked, glancing at Gemma. She shook her head, moving Harry’s curls off his forehead. 

“No. They took him off a sedative an hour ago. Hopefully he should be awake soon.” 

“Hopefully.” 

“Just a waiting game now,” Jay told him as she came to stand behind Louis. She kissed his head and smiled. “Got some food in you?” 

“A bowl of cereal at home. And some overnight oats Harry made. I don’t know why he thought that was proper breakfast after getting married, but it was delicious.” 

Jay chuckled at that and shook her head to herself. “Endurance food, perhaps,” she offered and Louis wrinkled his nose at the implication. 

“Mum.”

Anne joined in then. “You think we don’t know about sex? May I remind you that I have two children and your mum has several. We’ve clearly enjoyed ourselves a few times.” 

Gemma and Louis both made gagging noises at that. “Oh my god, mum. I’m all for the taboo around sex being lifted, but please.” 

“I’ll cheers to that,” Louis agreed and bumped knuckles together as their mums laughed. 

A few hours passed, the steady, monotonous beeping of Harry’s heart monitor the background of Louis’ every thought. The doctor said it might take awhile before he would wake up, but he remained hopeful in these early hours of waiting. Patience had never been his strong suit, but it was key to this right now. 

The day turned to night and Niall and Liam called it a day, heading home, but promised to keep their phones on. His own mother had to go back to the hotel to check on the youngest of his siblings and Gemma wanted to turn in for the night, heading back with her. 

“You should go back with them,” Louis told Anne. “I don’t mind waiting here.” 

Anne waved him off. “You should go home. Or at least take the couch. I can take the chair tonight.” 

Louis scoffed and waved her off. “You’re bloody out of your mind if you think I’d let you take the chair. Harry would wake up from his coma just to slap me. ‘Why are you letting my mum sleep sitting up?’”

Anne laughed fondly at him and moved to the couch, grabbing a pillow and blanket to drape it over his shoulders. 

Louis rested his head on the bed, holding Harry’s hand in his own as he stroked his thumb up and down along the back. His eyes felt heavy as he watched Harry and listened to the sound of his slow breathing alongside Anne’s gentle snores. 

“You snore like that too,” Louis whispered, eyes flickering to Harry’s peaceful face. “You pretend like you don’t snore, I don’t know if you think it’s embarrassing, but you totally do. You snore.” 

Harry didn’t suddenly wake up to respond. He didn’t squeeze Louis’ hand, but he liked to imagine Harry was listening. 

+++

“I do not snore,” Harry told Louis indignantly, standing at the stove in just his underwear while he made a bacon and cheese omelette. Louis sat on the counter across from him with the cheekiest of grins on his face. 

“You totally snore. Its cute.” 

Harry scoffed. “Snoring isn’t cute.” 

“It is when you do it.” 

Harry turned to look at him, cocking his hip out and lifting a brow, but the bacon grease spat at him from the pan and he yelped and jumped back from the stove. Louis hopped down from the counter and laughed, grabbing a dish towel to wipe it from Harry’s torso. 

“I never in my life been to someone’s house without an apron. You’re making me slave away in your kitchen without an apron, a hazard to everyone including myself.” 

Louis laughed and wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle from behind, holding the dishrag as a makeshift shield and hooked his chin over his shoulder. “You’re the one cooking half naked. Besides, I'm struggling artist. I don’t even have a bed frame and you expect me to have an apron?” 

“An apron is a quintessential kitchen necessity.” 

“You’re talking to someone who eats cereal for nearly every meal.” 

Harry turned to glare at him, doing his damndest to look menacing. Louis thought he looked a lot more akin to a kitten. 

“Alright, alright,” he conceded. “Next paycheck, my big splurge will be an apron. Sound good?” 

Harry smirked as if he had just pulled the greatest scam known to man by getting Louis to buy an apron. Louis bit gently into his neck, just below his ear. Harry sighed as he leaned back into him and turned his head enough to kiss Louis’ cheek. Louis used the opportunity to pinch his sides to make Harry jump and squeal. 

“And you totally snore.”

+++

Louis often liked to believe he had a pretty optimistic view on life. He could make a joke out of any situation. Bad things happened, but bad things could happen to anyone. And he could get past it. 

The first week or so after Harry was brought off the medically-induced coma, the doctors assured him that it takes time. That like people, no two comas were the same. That brain injuries were a tricky thing. That he should still be optimistic. 

Louis held himself to their words. He brought his guitar a few days into Harry’s hospital stay, when the days began to get more monotonous. He plucked the chords mindlessly, singing to Harry with Anne and Gemma watching, sometimes singing along. It wasn’t an award-winning performance, but it wasn’t meant to be. 

He stayed in the chair beside Harry’s bed, guitar in his lap or by his side, notebook in hand as he flipped through lyrics and scribbled new ones that popped into his head. He tried to think back to the happy times with Harry, pulling from those memories, those moments to write. To make himself feel the hope that was rapidly slipping from his fingers. 

He was exhausted every day. Every time he looked at Harry he held his breath. It was tiring, to say the least. 

A month in, he left his notebook at home. 

Two months in, he left his guitar. 

Not everyone can put their life on hold, and eventually things go back to normal for everyone—everyone but him. Anne had to go back home, Gemma to school and Niall to work.   
Liam remained out of commission from his arm and leg injury.

Louis ignored the calls on his phone as he watched Harry. He could see his label calling, his manager, his tour manager. Everyone wanted something and Louis had nothing to give. 

At the three-month mark Dr. Glazer came in, her knock gentle on the door. Louis glanced up, eyes empty as he watched Harry breathing in and out. 

“Louis? I know now might not seem like a good time to talk, but I think we should talk about Harry’s progress.” 

Louis flicked his eyes over to her and sat up. “Progress? As in moving forward? Is—did something happen?” He asked. 

Dr. Glazer shook her head. “No, no forward progress. Still steady. Harry hasn’t woken from the coma, even after taking him off the medicine, and we’ve done CT scans and MRI’s. We monitor his condition every day, but the outcome isn’t looking hopeful. I wanted to come in to talk with you about options—” 

“You mean killing my fiance,” he said coldly. “You’d like to talk about taking him off life support. Pulling the plug. Whatever fancy fucking term you have for it, it all means the same thing. You want to kill my fiance.” 

She took a steady breath as she watched him. “This is a very sensitive matter, Mr. Tomlinson. I assure you that I have no interest in killing your fiance. I’m merely here to discuss your options.” 

“I’ll take the option to keep him alive, thanks.” He looked away from her and to Harry. He watched Harry’s chest rise and fall before he leaned down to brush an eyelash from his cheek.   
“If you'd like to keep him on life support, we recommend moving him down a few floors to hospice.” 

Louis’ face hardened. “Hospice is for when people are going to die. Harry isn’t going to die.” 

“Mr. Tomlinson—,” 

He held a hand up to stop her. “Do not ‘Mr. Tomlinson’ me. You know as well as I do what you’re suggesting to me. And I bet that once you get me down to hospice, the people down there will just convince me to take him off life support. To let him die. I’m not going to let him die!” His voice was getting steadily louder, and a few nurses gathered around the door to watch the spectacle. 

“I’m not suggesting you kill your fiance, Mr. Tomlinson. I’m here to lay out the options for you, for you to make an informed decision. And it’s worth letting you know that keeping Harry on life support is a valid option. But it may be years of waiting without the promise of him waking up—it will be costly. Not only expensive for your wallet, but for your head and your heart.” 

“Are you suggesting I cut Harry off life support because it would be expensive to keep him on it?”

“Absolutely not. I’m informing you of the facets of each decision. The cost of hospice is part of that.” Dr. Glazer’s voice was even and controlled. 

“I’ll happily pay whatever amount you desire to not kill my fiance. Thank you. Now if you’re done with your tests for today, I’d suggest you leave.” 

Dr. Glazer chanced a glance at Harry and sighed, walking around the bed to hang up Harry’s chart. She got to the door and Louis tried to ignore her, sensing her hovering. 

“It’s not a decision that needs to be made immediately. Talk it over with Harry. Think of whether he would want to be breathing, but not alive. Think if you would.” She closed the door with a soft click. 

Louis felt tears welling in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he stared at Harry. Worst of all, he knew that she was probably right. 

+++ 

Louis was laid back on the grass behind their new house, Harry tucked under his arm. He watched the stars in the dark night sky and dragged his fingers through Harry’s curls. 

“Do you have any dreams?” Louis asked. 

Harry laughed and wrapped the blanket around them both a little tighter. “Of course I have dreams. You dream every night when you sleep, even if you don’t remember.”. 

Louis rolled his eyes and pinched Harry’s side playfully. “Not what I meant. I meant do you have like—a bigger dream for your life? Or a goal. I dunno, something that you want to work for?” 

Harry tilted his head to look at him and and thought for a moment. “I think I’d like to own a cafe. Bakery. A small shop where I can make something everyday. Maybe I don’t have to own it, but it might be fun. Harry’s Bakery.” 

Louis smiled to himself and scratched along his belly. “Harry’s bakery. Quaint. I like it.” 

“Do you have any dreams?” 

“You know my dream. To make music for millions of people. To make music that people love. That’s my dream.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry turned to rest his chin on Louis’ chest and searched his face. He was clearly waiting to ask something but Louis didn’t push, just continued to play with Harry’s curls until he was ready. 

“Do you have any fears?” Harry asked finally. “Not like, spiders or heights. Real proper fears.” 

Louis thought for a moment, hand pausing in Harry’s hair. “Losing my family. The people closest to me. I’ve always been scared of that. Maybe because my dad left me and my mum when I was young. Fear of abandonment. I dunno. I’m sure I could unpack all that in therapy,” he admitted. “Do you have any fears?” 

“Existing without experiencing life. Just like—” Harry sighed. “Just going through my whole life and not feeling like I lived. Like I was just taken for a ride the whole time but I never got to get out of the car.” 

Louis looked at Harry and cupped his cheek. “Do you feel like that’s happening now? Have you gotten out of the car yet, or are you stuck in the back with child locked doors?” 

Harry grinned at tLouis’ words. “It doesn’t feel like I only exist when I’m with you.” 

“Yeah?” Louis asked him as he leaned in. Their lips brushed together softly, breathing into each other for a few moments before they broke apart. Harry turned to look back up at the sky. He gasped and pointed up. 

“A shooting star! Quick, make a wish!” 

Louis didn’t take his eyes off of Harry, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

Mine already came true. 

+++

Louis was doing that absolute bare minimum of keeping himself alive at this point. Wake up. Eat a bit. Drink some water. Go visit Harry. Come home. Sleep. Repeat. 

He had decided to keep him on life support, unable to make himself let Harry go. The move to hospice had been rather easy and it was nice to move to a room that didn’t feel so medical. Once Louis had decorated it, it almost felt like just another room in their house. 

Today was shaping up to be no different. He trudged out of bed and went to the kitchen. He leaned down to pet their cat, Evie, and fill her bowl up. He watched her eat for a few moments, wishing he could be more like her. Every day she woke up and went about her cat business like nothing had changed. Louis wondered if she even realized Harry was gone, the way he did when he woke up every morning to an empty bed. 

The thought of Harry made him stop for a moment before he took in a deep sigh. He opened his fridge and pulled out a casserole dish he had been steadily working on, grabbing the last clean fork to eat it right from the container before he heard a knock on his door. He wasn’t exactly expecting anyone or looking to entertain so he ignored it for a few moments. The knock sounded again. 

“Lou? I know you’re alive in there, you better open the door or I’ll have Liam kick it open,” Niall’s voice called. 

Louis watched the door from their kitchen—his kitchen. He was half-tempted to wait, just to see if Niall was serious, but he didn’t want to deal with buying a whole new door. He set the casserole dish down and moved to open the door, giving only a half-hearted nod to Liam and Niall before walking back to the kitchen. 

Liam and Niall entered the flat slowly, eyes roaming to take note of the surroundings. The little row of herbs lining the kitchen window that Harry had tended to so lovingly were shriveled and brown. The dishes in the sink were stacked like tetris and it looked like Louis was on the last of the clean dishes. The laundry trailed along the floor. Niall shared a look with Liam, who stepped in carefully and closed the door behind him. 

“Sorry for the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” Louis said flatly as he leaned against the counter.

Niall nodded as he took in a breath and dragged a hand through his hair. “I tried to call. Went straight to voicemail.” 

Louis glanced at his phone on the kitchen table, knowing he had made a point to ignore most phone calls. He hadn’t had the desire to connect with the outside world. “Sorry. Must’ve missed your call. Do not disturb, you know?” 

Niall didn’t laugh or smile. He leveled a stare at Louis before he sighed. “We just wanted to check on you since—well, no one has seen or heard from you since Harry got moved to hospice.” 

Louis shrugged and looked down at his feet, watching Evie weave in and out of his legs. “I’m fine. Good as can be expected.” 

“So not good at all.” 

Louis narrowed his eyes and kept watching the floor. “Suppose you could say that.” 

There was silence in the flat for a few moments before Louis felt himself being wrapped in a hug, Niall holding his front and Liam from behind. He felt engulfed in their warmth, and it was the first time he had felt something in a week. He sagged into their bodies, letting them hold him up. 

“I miss him so much,” Louis whispered, his voice broken and weak. Niall rubbed along his spine, his touch sturdy. 

“I know.” 

“I keep waking up and expecting him to be there. I go to the kitchen and expect him to be cooking. I look out the window and expect to see him out with Evie in the garden, picking peppers or raspberries or whatever. I miss him so much.” 

Niall took in a deep breath and rested his cheek on his head. Liam just held him, silent but present, and in that moment it was all Louis really needed. 

“I know, Lou. I know.” 

They stood huddled together like that for a few more minutes before Liam broke the silence. 

“I don’t mean to be rude, Lou,” Liam said slowly, “but you kinda smell.” 

Louis couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was short and sharp, but it was a laugh. He pulled back from his friends and leant to sniff his armpit, making a face. “Suppose that’s to be expected. I don’t think I’ve showered all week. Week and a half. I don’t know,” he admitted. 

Niall placed a hand on his arm and squeezed gently, his face reading sympathy and no judgement. Louis was grateful for that. “Why don’t you go shower? Bet it’ll feel nice just to scrub your skin clean and get in some fresh clothes,” he suggested. 

Louis nodded and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. His friends have barely been in the flat five minutes and he was already exhausted. He knew the shower was going to take the rest of his daily energy. It was pathetic, but Louis didn’t even have it in him to feel sorry for himself. He gathered himself and went to his room, grabbing some fresh joggers and a shirt to take to the bathroom before he closed the door to strip. 

It took him half an hour to shower completely and actually feel clean. He had to sit down for a few minutes in between washing his hair and body because he just felt that tired. He shaved and dried his hair the best he could and brushed his teeth. He hated to admit it made him feel a bit better already. 

He exited the bathroom with his laundry in hand ready to deposit it into the hamper when he realized it wasn’t in the room. All the clothes that had been scattered on the floor and in bed were gone along with his bedsheets. He heard the sound of the washer being loaded before he hurried from the bedroom, glowering when he saw Niall doing the laundry. He was about to pour the detergent when Louis yelled to stop. 

Louis yanked the clothes out of the washer, throwing aside the bedsheets and his own dirty clothes until he found the sweatshirt that belonged to Harry. Large and oversized and soft, it smelled of Harry still. Faintly, but it was there. He hugged it close to his chest and inhaled deeply, trying to memorize the scent. Niall watched him before glancing at Liam. 

“Oh Lou,” Niall whispered. 

Louis didn’t open his eyes. He kept them shut and just imagined that Harry was still here. Imagined Harry was doing the laundry instead of Niall; imagined that all of this nightmare was just fucking over. 

“It still smells like him, okay? It’s the only thing I have left that still smells like him.” 

Niall didn’t say a word. Instead he watched Louis before he gently prodded his hip, pushing him to the couch. “Go sit down. I’ll work on the laundry.” 

Louis didn’t argue then, walking dejectedly to the couch and sinking into Harry’s favorite spot. He pulled his knees up to his chest and inhaled the sweatshirt. If he leaned just right on the couch, he could almost imagine being in Harry’s arms. 

Louis stayed on the couch in his house while Liam and Niall cleaned around him. He felt useless sitting on his arse all day, something he hadn’t minded doing before, but now that there was technically an audience to watch he felt like he needed to do more. Niall would force him right back down to his butt every time he offered to help, so he eventually shut up and let them work. 

By the end of the day his apartment was cleaner than it had been even before the wedding. His sheets were changed, his laundry folded, his dishes clean, and order nearly restored. Liam had ordered some pizza for them to share and they were all crouched around the pizza box on the coffee table, a footie match playing in the background as they all silently scarfed down their food. 

Louis ate until he felt properly full and then a bit more. It was the most he had eaten in days and it felt good—greasy and full of carbs and absolutely terrible for you. Harry would’ve loved it, even if he pretended to only like healthy foods.

Louis winced at the memory of Harry and pushed his paper plate of pizza aside. 

“Do you think there’s an afterlife?” he asked, eyes on the tv but not taking in any of the game. 

Niall glanced at him, mouth full of food before he swallowed and grabbed a napkin to clean his hands. “Uh. I don't know,” he admitted and kept his eyes on Louis. “Do you?” 

Louis hadn’t thought about it much. He shrugged and looked over at Niall. “Maybe. I don't know. I thought there was just meant to be heaven or hell, I guess. I mean, that’s what most people are told. I don't know if I believe in all that.”

“I think there’s a place we all go. There has to be,” Liam said confidently as he ate another slice. “I think there’s too much that goes on in life. I think there has to be a place after we die that we can go to tie up loose ends. Say goodbye properly. Find peace.” 

Louis tilted his head to the side and shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.” 

“I think it’s called limbo,” Niall offered. 

“That’s a game, not a place,” Liam argued. 

“It could be two things.”

Louis held a hand up to silence them. “I think it's like—I mean, it’s a religious thing, right? All of the afterlife stuff.” 

Liam set his plate down and grabbed for some paper towels. “I mean, I don’t know. Religious people might just have more words for it all. Put more thought into it. It’s scary to not know what happens when you die, innit? I think what happens after we die doesn’t just focus on what we believed in our lives. I think after we die, all we want is a life of peace. To be put to rest. There’s a lot that happens in life though you know? Things that just don’t get resolved, things you don’t get to say because you’re too scared. Maybe there's a heaven and hell, maybe not. But I think there's definitely an in-between for us to fix everything we couldn’t in our life.” 

Niall and Louis stared at Liam in disbelief. They blinked in silence for a moment before Niall let out a low laugh. “Fuck. That’s heavy.” 

Louis tried to think over Liam’s words. It sounded crazy. It did. That people who died had an in-between from being alive to totally dead to fix everything. He thought back to the dreams he’d been having of Harry, of how Harry had been speaking to him like he wasn’t totally gone. Like Louis still had a chance to find him. 

“I can believe that,” Louis told Liam, eyes focused on the table before he looked up between the boys. “This is gonna sound crazy. Maybe. I don’t know. I think Liam is right, there is an in-between life and death. Not limbo. Not the religious limbo, anyway.” He closed his eyes as he tried to make sense of his rapid thoughts. 

“I think there is a limbo and I think Harry might be there. I’ve been having these dreams—these visions, or whatever,of him. He’s there every night in my head and he talks to me, like he’s begging me to find him. I thought it was just like—my subconscious or whatever. But maybe it’s Harry talking to me from the in-between.” 

There was silence for a few moments before Niall laughed awkwardly. “You think Harry is talking to you through your dreams? Like—literally Harry. Your fiance who is in a coma from a car crash?” Niall sounded like he was hesitant to even say the words, but Louis could tell he wanted to say it. 

“Yes? No? I—who knows? I think maybe there’s a chance his spirit is talking to me.” 

“I think you’re right,” Liam told Louis, not a trace of joking in his voice.

Louis tilted his head to the side as he watched Liam. “You do?” 

Liam nodded as he wiped his hands on his napkin and sat up properly. “Yeah I think so. I mean that’s part of the coma thing right? He’s alive, but not awake. Not dead, but he can hear you. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say maybe his soul is somewhere in the universe.”

“You’re both bloody crazy. Harry is in a coma, in hospice. That’s the only place he is,” Niall reasoned, looking between them. 

Liam ignored Niall. “I’ve heard of this place from a girl whose partner was in a coma. Like a limbo. I read an article about it one night. She went to New Zealand and went to a forest somewhere. She said it looked normal but when you stepped off the trail it was like you were in another world.” 

“Like Bridge to Terabithia? Or Stranger Things?” Louis asked, leaning in towards Liam. 

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t really know how it works, but it’s just different. I think people thought it was a creative writing piece or that is wasn’t real, but I think it’s about intention. Like if you don’t have someone that’s nearly gone or lost, this world doesn’t exist to you.” 

“Like a fucked-up nightclub,” Niall interjected. Louis and Liam both glared at him and he shrugged. “What? It’s like the weirdest invite-only club you could be in.” 

Louis thought about it for a moment before he looked back up at his friends. “Do you think it’s real?” 

“I have no idea. But maybe it’s worth looking into. If Harry keeps visiting you in your dreams, maybe he’s hoping you’ll come find him.” 

Louis mulled over this in silence, the TV the only background noise for his thoughts. 

“I mean, it’s silly, innit?” Louis asked. “It’s a nice thought. A pretty writing piece, I’m sure. I don’t think that it’s real though. Maybe she was just high in the forest and imagined it all.” Louis pushed his plate into the empty pizza box. 

Niall and Liam both laughed, getting up to clean up after their dinner. 

They didn’t bring it up the rest of the night as they lounged and watched footie. The conversation was minimal, and Louis let himself enjoy the moment to be with friends and watch a game. If he closed his eyes, everything would almost feel normal again. 

Almost. 

+++

Later that night Louis laid in bed, unable to sleep as he tossed and turned under the sheets. He couldn’t get Liam’s words out of his head, no matter how hard he tried—he couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities. 

There might be a place, a tangible place, where he could go to see Harry again. Maybe a place he could be with Harry. 

It was enough to make him dig out his laptop and power it up. He sat curled up at the head of the bed, haloed in the light from his computer as he googled frantically. 

It took a bit of searching to find the article Liam was talking about. It wasn’t front page news, but it was on a normal-looking website. Louis scanned the article, reading through it a few times. Before he understood what he was doing, he booked a flight to New Zealand. 

Louis blinked a few times, the boarding pass for tomorrow staring him down on his bright screen. He has no idea what the fuck he had just done, but it had felt right.   
Louis shoved the computer off his lap and got up, moving around the bed to the closet. He opened the door, tugging out his duffel bag from the back and began to shove clothes in. He had no idea what to bring to limbo or a portal to lost souls, so he packed layers—jackets, sweatpants, long and short sleeves, and thick socks. He shoved a blanket inside as well and picked his gym shoes, and packed his guitar too. He didn’t know why, what voice inside of him begged him to bring it, but before he knew it he was completely packed and dressed, passport in hand. 

He looked at himself in the mirror as he pulled on Harry’s sweatshirt. It dwarfed him, but he liked that. He felt safe with it. His cheeks were shallow and the bags under his eyes from sleepless nights were more pronounced than they had ever been. He touched the stubble along his jaw, imagining what Harry would say if he could see him now. 

He shook the feeling off. Harry would be disappointed in him. He wouldn’t want Louis to be wallowing in self pity. 

But Harry hadn’t had to watch Louis lay lifeless in a bed for months. 

He took a deep breath as he looked once more at the reflection of himself and turned away. He grabbed his duffel and guitar and keys and headed out the door. 

His flight was early and he only had time for one stop before he went to the airport. The hospice had 24 hour visiting hours and Louis took full advantage. He arrived and parked before he jogged inside and waved hello to the familiar faces at the receptionist desk. 

Louis knew the path to Harry’s room by memory. He followed it on autopilot, not knocking before he entered and shut the door behind him. The room was quiet with Harry’s breathing and the steady sound of the machines beeping. He moved to the edge of Harry’s bed and picked up his hand, intertwining their fingers before he kissed the back of his hand. Harry looked so peaceful in the soft light of the lamps. 

Louis cupped his cheek and stroked along his skin, eyes searching his face for any sign of life, any sign that Harry might be waking up. There was no sign. 

He let out a weak breath, dropping his head to his chest as he tried to organize his rapid thoughts. His heart was racing at the thought of leaving Harry for any amount of time and he had no idea how long this trip was going to take. 

“I know, I'm here everyday, baby. I know we have a good thing going. This schedule. I have to—I have to go away for a while,” Louis whispered to the silent room. He laughed weakly at himself, dropping his head so their foreheads were touching. He closed his eyes, feeling a tear slipping from his cheek before he pressed a gentle kiss to Harry’s lips. 

“I’ll be back darling. I’ll be back, I promise.” His voice was shaking, weak, and he was glad it was only Harry listening. He took a few deep breaths, wiping his tears from Harry’s cheek before he kissed his forehead. 

He inhaled sharply and stood up, wiping his eyes before he squeezed Harry’s hand once more. Then again. Then again. A secret message only for them. 

Wait for me. 

+++

Harry paced in the dewy grass, his eyes focused on the floor as he walked back and forth. He had been in the underworld for a few months, his soul travelling there in the moments between life and death. 

Harry had always believed there was something that happened after your life was over. He had no idea something could happen in between. 

He’d been intercepted by Persephone when he had first arrived. This wasn’t normal. The person you were meant to see first was Hades; he would bring you to his throne and look back at your life before he would bring in the fates. They would decide your fate, be it life or death or the in-between, the underworld. 

Persephone had taken his hands into hers, body emanating warmth as she listened to Harry’s frantic words. “I was in a car crash. I’m supposed to be at my wedding. Where is Louis?”

She had hushed him and moved her hands up his arms until she had rested her fingertips on his lips, effectively silencing his barrage of words. Her golden brown skin glimmered in the sunlight that broke through the trees. Harry was mesmerized when he stopped panicking long enough to take her in. 

“That’s better.” Persephone’s voice floated between them, and her hands moved back down to his shoulders. “Why don’t you tell me your name?” 

“I’m Harry.” He breathed.

“Why, hello Harry. I’m Persephone. Would you like to tell me how you ended up here?”

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, dragging a hand through his curls as he worked to ignore Hades’ eyes on his back. 

“You’ve been holding on for awhile,” Hades droned to Harry. He leaned back against a boulder, the cool air flowing around him making his robes flutter in the wind. His sallow skin looked almost grey under the moonlight. 

Harry narrowed his eyes as he watched Hades’ movements. “He’s coming. I know he is. I can feel it.” 

“You’ve been saying that for months. I can only hold the fates off for so long.” 

“You’ll hold them off longer,” Persephone said. She touched Hades’ arm, a smile on her pink lips. Her smile was kind, but Harry could see the heat in her eyes. They shared a silent moment, seeming to communicate telepathically before she turned to Harry. 

“You’ll have time. I’ll make sure you have time,” she promised. She couldn’t guarantee that Hades would wait, would spare his life until he could get Louis here, but she would try and that’s all Harry could ask for. 

“You really can’t tell me if he’s coming? You can’t tell me anything you know?” Harry begged, searching her eyes, hoping to find some semblance of comfort in them.

She shook her head and stepped out of his reach, a gentle kiss pressed to his forehead. “I can’t. I don’t see what the fates do, but I’ll do what I can with who I can.” 

Harry didn’t know what to do while he waited. Every day, Hades visited him with Persephone by his side. He reminded Harry how he had little time left. He never specified how much, though, just that the sand was falling down the hourglass grain by grain. Harry could feel time slipping away from him with every additional moment. 

He had upped his visits to Louis’ dreams. He had been trying desperately to connect with him, to get him to see that he wasn’t gone, to not give up. But he couldn’t actually have conversations with him—he could only plant the seed and hope for the best. 

Harry watched Hades and Persephone part from his makeshift home and sank down to the ground, laying back against the earth to let the grass around him cover his body. The dirt was cool and wet against his skin, soothing him as he looked into the sky. He closed his eyes, unable to shake the feeling in his stomach that something was about to happen. Something was about to change.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think down below! my tumblr is @hrrystylesbian


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